Why Birds Hit Windows

Michael Kreisel and Cathryn Cofell

I ask if she’s still married
when I see her twice a year.I say yestwice a year.We drink and talk and dance
and we’re the same except I drink too much, dance his talk and it’s the same. No exceptions.cul-de-sac with people
watching our glass car room stuffed with friends a cul-de-sac of smoke and one-linersgo by in calliope circles.
We’re naked and our hearts circle and nothing gets by them yet none gets the layers of my heartare steering. People shake
their heads at every lap, how I thump at my husband’s distance. Oh, to be held again in his lap –wondering how anyone
could be so fucking lost. Does he ever wonder how we got so lost, why I’m a homing pigeonOrbiting, neither one of us
wants to give in or give up. orbiting? Neither one of you wants to ask the real question.